


Kiss Me, Sweet Hart

by TheMalhamBird



Category: Richard II - Shakespeare
Genre: M/M, Shapeshifting, kiss and make up, old gods AU, outdoor sex in the very near future implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 22:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14680971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMalhamBird/pseuds/TheMalhamBird
Summary: Richard makes Edward work for forgiveness, though it would be easier for Edward to apologize to his husband if he could catch up with him.(It's been three days, Richard, quit sulking already)





	Kiss Me, Sweet Hart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cheshireArcher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshireArcher/gifts).



> skeleton-Richard and I have been cooking up aus on tumblr; this is the version of "Richard can turn in to a White Hart because he's awesome like that" au where he and Edward (and Henry and Edward's parents and so on) are gods. 
> 
> (if you enjoy this, you should straight over to Hotspur's fic for me, set in the version of "Richard can turn in to a White Hart because he's awesome like that" where they're still people,Richard is still a King, Edward is still Rutland, and they're still stupidly in love because it's them and of course of they are. 
> 
> Seriously, go check it out, it's awesome)

Edward skidded to a halt, doubling over and pressing a hand to his side as he struggled to catch his breath. This deep in the forest, the trees were tall, and wide: gnarled, ancient, unyielding. The canopy offered shade at the expense of light; it was cool, but dark; the soil was damp- Edward sat down anyway, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm and fumbling to get the lid off his water bottle. He drank long messy gulps, water dribbling around his mouth, and he exhaled as he lowered it, resting his head back against the rough bark of one of the old trees. “Come on, dearheart,” he called. “It’s been three days.”

Silence. Not even a bird call.

Edward groaned. “It’s not my fault,” he said. “I have to spend some time with Henry, those are The Rules.” The thrice-accursed Rules. None of the gods knew what made them to do certain things, in certain ways or at certain times, but Edward had been Compelled to spend a few weeks of each season back in civilization for as long as he could remember—just as Richard

Actually, Edward was pretty sure the Richard was never Compelled to do anything. It would explain why he was so un-understanding about the whole situation. “I love you?” he tried.

A twig snapped behind him. Edward leapt to his feet and turned around to find a white hart in the trees a little way off. Edward smiled with relief, and reached out to stroke the hart’s muzzle. The hart snorted, shook his head and glared at him before prancing back out of reach and charging past him. “Oh come on!” Edward cried, before pressing his hand back to his side, trying to ignore the aching stitch as he stumbled after him. He chased the hart for a good nother hour or so, clinging desperately to the occasional glimpses of white through the trees: the forest was Richard’s; if he truly didn’t want Edward on his trail, Edward wouldn’t have seen so much as a hoof-print on the forest floor. Finally, Edward stumbled out in to a clearing to find his hart with his back to him, drinking from the stream a little way off.

Edward kept his distance, this time. “Hey,” he said softly. “I love you.”

The hart turned around, stepping back in to the stream and fixing Edward with a challenging stare. Edward folded his arms. “Seriously? You’re millennia old, I can’t believe you’re being this childish.” At least, they were probably millennia old. None of them ever really bothered to keep track- the last Richard knew, the mortals had been calling it the fourteenth century, but he’d been around for….a long time before that ; Henry was more up to date with these matters, and the last time Edward had actually listened to Henry when they spent time together, he’d been getting all excited about how the nineteenth century was “an age of industrial revolution”. They were old, that was the point. “You’re going to make me wade in after you, aren’t you?” Edward continued. Stags couldn’t smirk, but Richard’s human form could, and Edward was pretty sure that was somehow transferring on to his cervine features. Edward sighed, uncrossed his arm, and strode forward. He splashed through the water, grateful for invention of wellington boots- they didn’t leak. He threw his arms around his husband’s neck, and pressed a kiss just above Richard’s pink nose. “I’m sor-“

SPLASH!

“—oof!” Edward groaned, as he lost his balance under the sudden shift in Richard’s weight, and form, and he landed on his back in tepid, shallow water, Richard kneeling astride his hips. Edward looked up at him, drinking in the sight of his husband’s beautiful face, and his auburn hair- the ends dipping slightly in the clear stream. “That wasn’t nice,” he complained.

“Neither was you leaving,” Richard snapped, climbing off him and walking back on to the bank. Edward rolled on to all fours and picked himself up, admiring the way the taut muscles in Richard’s backside moved as he walked away.

“I cam back,” he said, “I always come back to you. You know that.”

Richard stopped, but didn’t turn around. Edward sighed, and walked up to him, running his hands up Richard’s bare arms and sweeping his hair out the way so that he could kiss his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I know you don’t like it. You know I don’t have much of a choice.”

“You don’t have to stay so long.” Richard said, shoulders tensing.

Edward pushed aside the arguments that he quite enjoyed Henry’s company, really, deep down, because they weren’t that helpful right now, and said instead: “It’s a week. Only a week, love, once a season- four weeks of the year, that’s not even a month.”

“It is if the month is February.”

“Only three years out of four. Why are we arguing about this anyway, you know we’re shit at mortal time. You especially.”

Richard arched, relaxed, and turned around. He cupped Edward’s cheek, then dropped his hand and waited.

Edward slid his hand beneath Richard’s hair to cup his neck, and sweep his thumb across Richard’s cheek before leaning in and pressing his lips to Richard’s. Richard’s mouth gave way before his, and Edward slipped his tongue in to Richard’s mouth. His husband moaned, wrapped his arms around Edward’s waist, and pressed close to him, breaking off the kiss to nuzzle at Edward’s neck. Edward smiled. “Am I forgiven?” he asked. Richard’s response was to hook his fingers beneath the back of Edward’s wet t-shirt and hoist it upwards.

“I missed you,” he grumbled. Edward raised his arms and let Richard pull his shirt off. Richard tossed it to one side, and moved his hands down to unbutton Edward’s fly. “I don’t like missing you.” He said, yanking down the zipper and pushing his trousers down his hips, hands skating over Edward’s arse. Edward hastily vanished his boots to the trousers could fall to his ankles and he could step out of them, as Richard pushed down his boxers and wrapped his arms around Edward’s neck again, tossing his head to shake his hair out of his eyes and look in to Edward’s. He had such beautiful eyes, Edward thought, smiling delightedly at him as he placed his hands on Richard’s sides. They stared at each other for a long moment, before Richard said: “You’re forgiven. But I had nine days without you so we’ve got a lot to make up for.”

“There are seven days in a week,” Edward said, and Richard growled.

“Seven, nine, a thousand, shut up and fuck me, we can make up the talking later.”

Edward laughed, and they kissed again, Edward biting Richard’s lower lip before scooping him up, the hunter with his prize, and laying him down on the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr @themalhambird.tumblr.com :)


End file.
